Otherland: Bob

Panpsychism is an ancient philosophy that is being re-examined by members of the modern scientific community. This school of thought claims that “everything material, however small, has an element of individual consciousness.” It is an evolving theory but one of the oldest. Great thinkers such as Parmenides, Spinoza and even Plato subscribed to the idea that “consciousness, mind or soul (psyche) is a universal and primordial feature of all things.” Plato himself was a staunch believer that “This world is indeed a living being endowed with a soul and intelligence ... a single visible living entity containing all other living entities, which by their nature are all related” (Timaeus, Plato). Traces of this ideology appear throughout antiquity, in doctrines found in Mahayana Buddhism, Taoism and Stoicism. Stoicism, for example, “developed a cosmology which held that the natural world was infused with a divine fiery essence called Pneuma, which was directed by a universal intelligence called Logos.” In Christianity, Logos is the title given to Jesus “as the pre-existent second person of the Trinity.” Although there is slight correlation between those two, any real unifying factor was lost to more than 2000 years of a Patriarchal theocracy.

In modern thinking, Panpsychism helps to explain the “hard problem of consciousness.” It has been concluded that human beings are “like the rest of the universe, in substance and in spirit.” It is believed that a “proto-consciousness field” exerts itself throughout all time and all space. In a nutshell, the entirety of the universe is “self-aware.” For centuries we have accepted the “dominant theory,” that “consciousness is associated with complexity, with a system’s ability to act upon its own state and determine its own fate.” In principle, “some purely physical systems that are not biological or organic may also be conscious.” For hundreds of years, science has tried to explain away the universe. We have tried to come to an understanding regarding where we came from and why we are here. There always seems to be a missing link in all the thinking and all the study. In fact, Panpsychism can neither be “explained in terms of anything else nor be reduced to anything else.” To say that “consciousness is ubiquitous is to say that every aspect of concrete reality partakes of mentality in some way or in some measure.” So what does this mean to a mere mortal? If the universe is conscious then why has it been ignoring me? Who have I been talking to? If everything is one with each other, collective in a sense, then why do most human beings feel so alone? If the universe, like God, is out there, why does it seem that no one is listening? If the universe is alive, does that mean God is dead? Who do I pray to now? If the cosmos is aware and enlightened, then it surely must have a name. I think its name should be Bob.

I think I will call it Bob.

What does it mean to have a conscious universe? Is this all merely another way of approaching the idea of divine omniscience or even Nirvana? Scientists have been working to understand the cosmos but the deeper they peer into it, the more questions seem to arise. The very idea of the entirety of everything being aware seems contradictive to most religious manifestations of God. I suppose science has always managed to get in God’s way. So then is the living, thinking universe God? Is this the unspoken truth, the “universal” idea underlying all the subjective interpretations? Over the centuries, there have been many theories which resonate with the idea of Panpsychism. The oldest, Animism, “predates even paganism.” In Animism, “there exists no hard and fast distinction between the spiritual and physical (or material) world,” everything is sentient. Every person, every rock, every planet, even our shadows, the universe itself, all possess anima (Latin meaning breath, spirit, life) and are considered very much “animated and alive.” Animism is a supernatural belief system. A central force “organizes and animates the material universe.” This tradition remains “the belief system of many indigenous tribal peoples.” The Christian part of me was well trained to avoid these blasphemous and heathen ideas. They are considered evil, at least in the pages of the Bible.

“Ex nihilo nihil fit”

- Out of nothing comes nothing –

(Parmenides of Elea, pre-Socratic Greek philosopher)

Sometimes it feels like the Universe is calling out to me. I don’t hear voices. I don’t see visions. Occasionally, I sense a presence far greater than myself. I’m not sure if it is God or Jesus or Bob. I would like to know exactly what name I am supposed to worship under this week? Perhaps everyone sees fit to call “It” exactly what they want to. We insert coincidence and serendipity to give meaning to something we can never define. I can only speak for myself but not once in all the years I have searched for meaning in the stars did one ever drop out the sky and teach me how to be a better person. Like happiness, God is something different to each of us. It is one thing to one person and something completely different to another. We are bound in our subjective nature, caught making up something in light of all the nothingness. In a sense, we all keep God in our very own otherland, explained away by our preconceived notions and the complexities of man. Let’s be honest, that is exactly where such esoteric interpretations belong. What we believe really has little to do with anything but our own folly. If the universe is sentient, if it is aware, it apparently has placed the same restrictions upon itself that anything Holy would. It doesn’t matter how much you cry out, or pray, or even beg, Bob (like Jesus) refuses to answer. We always get nothing out of nothing.

I went for a walk last evening. The dusk held its own against the coming of the night. The view was clear and bright and full. Deep was the cosmos, raw and bleak and lonely. Nonetheless, the sky danced with stars and cosmic trails and planets hiding at a distance. I was surrounded by the beauty of it all. In a dark recess, I stood bewildered at the display. Under the moonless sky, I spied what felt like the reality of it all. The vastness and the overwhelming majesty of the night sky humbled me, as it always does. My nothingness was validated in the stardust. I tried to talk to it. I tried to listen. In the end, I got exactly the same thing from the “self-aware” universe that I always receive from whatever god I was praying to that day. Apparently, calling out for Bob offers me as much gratification as calling out for Jesus ever did.

I guess nothing really does beget nothing.